Ingvar Lidholm
Well, Honey, when a mommy artist and a daddy medium love each other very much . . . .
I can’t imagine that there is an artist or creative person alive who hasn’t been asked many and many a time where he gets his ideas or what inspired her to make this piece of artwork, write that song, take whatever photograph or choreograph any given ballet. In many cases, the answers are hard to condense into sound-bite-sized, manageable pieces for the occasion, because much creative endeavor is the tangible end result of a whole lifetime’s experience and train of thought, and we all know how often and how easily that particular train gets rerouted, redirected, diverted and derailed along the way.
But in general, most of us can point to pivotal moments that shaped our thinking, whether on an individual project or about our artistry as a whole. We can cite particular persons and their artistry that inspired and enlightened us and informed our own work as we grew. And for many of us, even we who are relatively late bloomers, a lot of the fodder for this inspiration begins early in life and creeps up on us subliminally to a certain extent.
I’ve already mentioned my long-ago irritation at being ‘bundled’ with Edvard Munch because of my Norwegian roots–and, of course, how ridiculous I realized that irritation was once I discovered that contrary to my belief, the more I got to know his work the more I actually admired it. Now, naturally, I take it as high praise (if perhaps hyperbolically so, though I’m happy to take it anyway) when my stuff is seen as meriting any such comparison.
My personal Style, if there is one, is defined more by a tendency toward slightly aggressive lines and bold coloration and faintly eccentric leanings when it comes to subject treatment than by any distinctive media, techniques or actual subjects. My affections in art are too fickle and my attentions too fleeting for me to be easily contented with any defined set of materials and topics and applications. But I find ideas and encouragement and guidance in the work of many painters, poets, draftsmen, printmakers, essayists, storytellers, architects, boat-builders, jewelers, botanists, lycanthropes . . . dear me, have I wandered again?
Part of the trick in pinning down who has been an influence on my work and where I’ve gotten my inspirations and ideas is that I’m very much a holistic, integrative and analogous operator, so in true Liberal Arts fashion I pull my many threads together from many divergent and possibly unrelated sources. The only consistent thing is that I try very hard to steal from the best.
My gifts are not musical, but I love music. So although my piano skills are fit only for personal amusement and my singing limited by spasmodic dysphonia and lack of practice to in-car singalongs and serenading my spouse with occasional outbursts of bent versions of formerly-familiar songs, I often work with music as my inspiring accompaniment. My paintings could be said to derive more from Aretha Franklin or Felix Mendelssohn, The Real Group or Tomás Luis de Victoria, than from Munch or Vincent van Gogh, though both of the latter have lent me many of my ideas about brushwork and coloration. My writing is more directly writing-derived, perhaps, but all of the favorite writers that spring to mind (Ogden Nash, Vladimir Nabokov, Dr Seuss, JRR Tolkien, S.J. Perelman, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Tomie dePaola, Geoffrey Chaucer) are on my hit list because of the lyrical, even musical, qualities with which they treat poetry and prose. I love children’s books as much now as I did when an actual child, because the best of them of course comprise a perfect and literal confluence of verbal and visual imagery, something that becomes more deeply ingrained in me by virtue of drawing the senses together. And in that way, my writing is often led to incorporate certain textures and moods and colors or to carry a particular ambience by either pictures (real or imagined) or simply the weight of a visual experience I’m hoping to evoke with words. I’m no synesthete, but all the same I do depend on the interaction of all my senses to shape each of the creative works I’m developing.
I did once make an entire exhibition devoted to portraits of people (mostly historical figures) who had had influence of some significant sort on my art and my creative life, and perhaps the most telling thing about the gallery besides that I had deliberately filled it with nothing but portraits (a form I’d studiously avoided all along in my artistic journey until then) was that very few of them were of visual artists. Most were of composers, singers, and writers. A few were agents of social change, a couple were people I actually know, and a handful were influential in the philosophical or spiritual realms. The writers and musicians ruled the room. I doubt that would change hugely if I were to do such a survey of inspirational influences again. I do know that there would be a new character added, but I’m not certain how exactly I could represent in a portrait my network of online muses in blogdom.
Igor Stravinsky
Art-Colored Glasses 
Ah I see the much lamented spam “Writer’s Jobs” has escaped your filter again. C’est La Vie.
But I digress.
I myself have little or no idea from where the images and words flow, I just know that when they start, they continue unabated until the flow ebbs and dies, and then i revise what’s on the page.
As you’ve mentioned, music does help me get into the groove to write, and my tastes, thanks to my father’s extensive vinyl collection, runs the gamut from Abba to Zappa, with favorites being Dylan, Travis Tritt, Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters,
the Master of the Telecaster Albert Collins, Cowboy Junkies, and strangely, the Bloodhound Gang.
As far as the verse writing goes, it seems to hinge on events — eyewitness ramblings set to lyrical meanderings –endlessly revisiting themes of romantic love, children, pretty girls, home and hearth while sometimes taking satirical pokes at society and human nature in general.
Where it comes from, heaven knows. And where it’s going and how it ends will be fun to find out.
http://vermontverse.wordpress.com
Ahhh, you have revived memories from my gallery-operating days, when I’d do all-nighters to switch out installations in two or three days and learned that nothing beat classic Blues for inspiring work music!
Yes indeed, what lies ahead is the point of all the fun, isn’t it.
Being more of a very late bloomer as far as art goes, I have never really asked myself where my inspiration was coming from. I just follow what I call my inner whisper and let it guide me 🙂
That’s a wonderful way to describe the nudge-to-create: Inner Whisper. I shall remember that! May it guide us all to great things. 🙂
Inspiration?
Everywhere.Everyone.
Manicured gardens, wild spaces.
Adults. Toddlers. Tweens.
Wild-eyed ranters. Soft, still voices.
Color. Sound. Scent.
Internal. External.
Universal…
Great post!
And a great encapsulation of your inspirations here, too!!
There’s a lot of food for thought in this interesting post. The thing I wonder when I see your lovely images, your well written posts, your beautiful food (the recent apple pie sprigged with pastry leaves springs instantly to mind) is where oh where do you find the time to do it all.
Same place we all do: just don’t consider Time as a part of the equation, and plow ahead and Live Life. I know you are as adept at it as anyone; I’ve seen your blog and know that that is only a small portion of what *you* do in any given day! 🙂
Great post, Kathryn! I’m always fascinated, and often surprised, to learn whence an artist derives inspiration, your portait exhibition a case in point. Actually, the entire process fascinates me, as one who has so little, if any, artistic talent and I welcome any opportunity to take a peek behind the veil. So, thanks for the peek!
Nonsense–both your food and your writing are your artistry, Sir John, and don’t you forget it! But I’m always intrigued by exchanging our whys-and-wherefores all the same. 🙂
This really speaks to me, Kathryn! I have no idea from what hidden springs my inspiration will flow from. I do know that it is so influenced by my state of mind that I try to focus on things that are (to me) beautiful and inspiring. And in my processing, music must fill the air (or my ears).
I knew from the beginning that music was a part of it for you, too, Ted: it’s obvious in the lyrical quality of your photos and digital paintings and your writing.
This one made me think. Because even though I don’t consider myself in artist, I guess my posts, which is the only writing I do, usually have a light bulb moment (if they’re any good). There’s usually some memory or an incident that inspires the writing. I kind of love that. I am baking and then an image pops up in my head and then words start forming as I am baking. Thank you for making me think of that.
Trust me, you’re as much an artist with your writing *and* your cooking as anyone, and it’s clear that you make those synaptical connections that creative thinkers do, if you’re leaping from the act to the well-worded description of the act. And yes, your posts ARE “any good”–wonderful, in fact!
I Love Gabriel Garcia Marquez, during the hard times i stood in a book shop holding a copy of his short stories, all of which I had just read IN the book store and I wanted to steal it, I could not afford it, I stood there behind a book case, clutching this book willing myself to steal it. I HAD to have it. Of course i put it back and took my kids up to buy their kids books.. But i can still remember the stories! I even have his biography in my bookcase! c
Such willpower. Thank goodness for the modern bookstore attitude of read-it-here/fall-in-love-with-it better serves those of us that need to save our pennies to get the good stuff, and especially for glorious libraries!!
I’ve always found the gray line between “art” and “craft” a fascinating one. In what I do–conducting choirs/orchestras–there’s a great deal of craft and one has to learn a myriad of skills to do even moderately well. It’s one of the things we teachers of conducting spend most of our time doing with our students. However, one also has to consider the “art” of conducting as well. We’re re-creative artists and don’t create the work, but it’s up to us brings it to life in the ear of the listener. At some point, craft has to become art for the fullest realization of the composer’s gift.
It *is* intriguing that art and craft can sometimes spill over into each other so far, and sometimes be so isolated, one from the other. Any of us creative persons are certainly very fortunate if and when we can get the two aspects of creation to come together!
Character studies extraordinaire by a talented, gifted artist…
Thank you, sweet Lindy Lee!
great post 🙂
Thank you kindly! 🙂